


Doctor Jones

by gingerfic



Series: An Alphabet of Samcedes Stories [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Dentist, F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, mention of disordered eating, samcedes - Freeform, yes that's a pun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5026153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerfic/pseuds/gingerfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is going to the dentist. A lot. He seems to have something on his mind…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Jones

**Author's Note:**

> beta by voyagehk
> 
> Content warning for brief references to disordered eating and allusions to dental emergencies.
> 
> There was one place in season 1 where Sue was implying that all the minority students were impoverished, and Mercedes said "My dad is a dentist..." and that was really the starting point of this story. (Plus some of Sam's season 5 experiences...you'll see.)

Mercedes Jones, DDS, had taken over her father’s dental office when he retired. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but it was stable, and she enjoyed seeing people look better and feel better.

“The guy in exam room two seems really anxious,” her hygienist, Susan, informed her, handing her a file folder. “He wants to talk to you before the exam.”

Mercedes smiled and nodded. A lot of people got nervous about going to the dentist, but most of them felt better after a little pep talk. She glanced down at the papers in her hand as she entered the room. “Sam Evans,” she read, reaching out to shake the hand of the man waiting for her in the chair. “I’m Doctor Jones. Susan said you had some specific concerns you wanted to discuss with me?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded.

She set his file on the counter and pulled up a chair. “I’m listening,” she prompted.

“Well, I’m a model,” Sam began.  _ Uh-huh,  _ she thought,  _ he definitely could be. He’s gorgeous. _

_ Oh right. Being professional here. _

\------

“Were you wondering about whitening or something?” the dentist asked in warm, kind voice.

“No,” Sam cleared his throat, knowing that he would have to say this quickly or he’d never get it out. “I just got my first professional gig recently, and moved in with a bunch of other models, and they all…” he wiped his hand across his face anxiously. “They were all taking pills and purging a lot and stuff, and I figured they were professionals and knew how this worked, so I tried it for a little while.”

Doctor Jones sat patiently, waiting for him to finish.

“I don’t do it anymore,” Sam assured her. “I decided I needed to find healthier ways to keep my body in shape, but for a few weeks there I was…you know…” he mimed sticking his fingers in his throat. “…Kind of a lot, and I’m worried that, like, the acid and stuff maybe damaged my teeth.”

“It can definitely cause problems if you do it on a regular basis,” she explained. “But if it was for a short time then hopefully you’ll be ok. Shall we take a look?” She pulled on her latex gloves and laid his chair back.

The paper mask she put on did nothing to disguise her gentle features or easy smile, and Sam felt much calmer as he opened her mouth to let her begin the exam.

\-----

“How did it go with that blond guy?” Susan asked Mercedes later as they were finishing up their notes at the end of the day. “I see a lot of nervous patients but he was really freaked out.”

“He was fine,” Mercedes said distractedly, closing one folder and grabbing the next.

“Yeah, he was _ fine _ !” Susan chuckled with a suggestive tone.

Mercedes felt her ears get hot. “He’s a client, Susan, you know I can’t look at clients that way.”

Susan’s eyes got wide. “Holy smokes, I was just teasing, but you actually are attracted to him, aren’t you?!”

“Shut up!” Mercedes knew she couldn’t hide much from Susan, but she wasn’t going to give in that easily.

“Weeeell,” Susan purred. “It might interest you to know that he made another appointment for next week.”

“What?” Mercedes’ head snapped up. “He didn’t need any work done.”

“He said it was for a follow-up for his special situation…whatever that means.”

“Doctor-client privilege, Susan,” Mercedes reminded her. “I’m not telling you anything beyond what’s written in his chart.”

Susan pouted. “All that’s written in his chart is that you advised him to floss better.”

“Well I did.”

“That’s not interesting  _ at all. _ ”

Mercedes smirked.

\-----

Eleven days later he was back. Mercedes wouldn’t have admitted it anyone (even if they confronted her), but she had spent longer than usual on her hair, makeup, and wardrobe selection that morning. When SaaaaMister Evans came through the front door of the office she just happened to be up at the front desk ‘checking something.’ (She’d checked so many things in the last half hour that this time she was literally organizing paper clips in the drawer, but so what, she was there to see him walk in!)

“Good afternoon Mister Evans,” she said in what she hoped was a calm voice. “How are you today?”

“I’m good,” he grinned. That gorgeous, huge grin.

“I don’t recall saying that you needed to come back in for a follow-up for anything,” Mercedes noted. “Why did you make another appointment?”

“Well,” Sam glanced around to check that there was no one to overhear them, then leaned over the counter so that he was close to her when he said “I just was worried that there might be-- _ effects _ \--that would take time to show up. I thought that coming back in to have you check again would be the responsible thing to do.”

“Responsible…” Mercedes repeated softly. “That’s, uh, not really necessary. But since you’re already here I guess I can look.”

\-----

Actually Sam had believed Doctor Jones when she said that his enamel looked good. He just wanted an excuse to see her again. So when she examined his teeth the second time, and pronounced that everything was (still) looking good, he thanked her profusely. He also assured her that he was doing better on his flossing. 

“That’s good,” she said with an amused look over the top of her glasses. “Very good. Keep that up. We’ll see you in six months, ok?”

\------

Sam came back five weeks later. He had considered chewing ice cubes or having a friend punch him in an attempt to create a genuine dental emergency, but ultimately decided that those things were too drastic even for him. So he settled on  claiming  that he had a toothache.

A couple of months after that, Sam made a dentist appointment to “check on his flossing progress.”

Three weeks after that he legitimately did swim into the wall of the pool (hey, he was underwater, his eyes were closed!) He had run his tooth through his lip, so he went to see the dentist to make sure that he hadn’t knocked anything out of place. He hadn’t.

\-----

“I think that Mister Evans has a crush on his dentist,” Susan teased Mercedes that night as they were closing up.

Mercedes brushed her off. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m serious!” Susan insisted. “I’ve never seen someone come in so often or for so many weird reasons.”

“Maybe he’s just a little paranoid,” Mercedes suggested. “I’d rather have someone be over-concerned about their teeth than be not concerned at all.”

“And he never gets x-rays or a normal cleaning, he always just sees you,” Susan added, putting her hands on her hips. “That’s not someone who is worried about his teeth. That’s someone who likes his dentist.”

Mercedes was quiet for a few moments, staring pointedly at the papers in front of her even though she couldn’t get her eyes to focus on them. Finally she looked up at Susan, who was still watching her, and whispered “do you really think so?”

Susan laughed, loud and long. “And that would be a dentist who likes him back, wouldn’t it.”

\-----

The next time Sam came into the office Mercedes met him by the front door. 

“I think you should start seeing another dentist,” she blurted. “I can recommend a good one, he’s the one I go to, and he’s really gentle. His hygienists are great too--”

“But I like coming here,” Sam looked crushed. “Is there a reason why I can’t come to you anymore?”

“I hope so.”

“What?” Now Sam looked confused.

“Sam, I need to ask you something. And depending on your answer you either won’t be able to come to me anymore or you won’t want to.”

Sam squinted at her. “What is this almighty question?”

“Will you go out with me?”


End file.
